Right From The Start
by L J Groundwater
Summary: What if Stalag 13 was NEVER an ordinary prison camp? Just a ramble from a thought that struck me one day, AU to my own thoughts about the who and how of the operation, but an experiment I wanted to try. Please do read and let me know what you think!


This was a complete and total experiment, fairly "AU" from my own Hogan's Heroes universe and thoughts... just a wandering of the mind; in other words, it is intended to be "sketchy". Just something that flitted through my brain one day, partly when I saw a snippet of "Ilsa: She Wolf of the SS" that was filmed on the _Hogan's Heroes_ set (I have no idea where the connection came from, but there you have it). As usual, I own nothing but my imagination.

---- ---- HH ---- ----

_The land has not yet been cleared...._

"My time here is extremely limited."

"I understand completely, Colonel."

"Friday morning, _Herr_ Himmler will be expecting my final recommendations for the location of a further four prison camps. I need to know if your superiors are still going through with their plans."

"Yes."

"That is definite?"

"Yes."

"You realize I am putting my life on the line by even meeting with you."

"We do, sir, and for that we are most grateful."

"I do not want your gratitude. I want your lips to remain tight. I will have a hard enough time explaining Camp 13 and its surroundings."

"We understand, sir. But if you get this started, we can assure you that we will not let your efforts go to waste. We _will_ use the camp for Allied purposes."

"Then it will be done." The Colonel stood up. "I want you to know, gentlemen, that I have no great love of the Allies." A respectful nod from the others. "However, I believe that this war is not going to go well on either side, and realistically, it would be better to have the English in control than Adolf Hitler. That small house painter has a superiority complex that even Winston Churchill could not exceed. Unfortunately, his brain does not match it."

"Your position is noted, sir."

"Good."

----- ----- HH ----- -----

_The buildings are up, fences are being erected..._

"We are appointing staff to Camp 13 before we begin the process of bringing in prisoners. Your plans are still intact?"

"Yes, Colonel, they are."

"And you have someone in mind for all of this?"

"We're watching the men very carefully. We have a handful who would be capable of accomplishing what we want."

"They will receive no help from me. You must understand, this is as far as my involvement goes. I set up the camp; that is all. From then on, it is business as usual. I will expect Camp 13 to be as efficiently run as my other camps—within the capabilities of the people in its command."

"Absolutely, Colonel."

"Fine. I already have a Kommandant in mind."

----- ----- HH ----- -----

_The camp is complete...._

"Wilhelm Klink!"

The tall, balding, nervous _Oberst _rises quickly from his seat and looks at the aide who has just called his name. "I'm Klink."

"The Colonel will see you now."

"Thank you." Klink tries to shake some confidence into himself. He doesn't understand why he's been summoned here today. True, he has been being called upon more frequently recently, being asked to provide the head of the _Luftwaffe_ in the area with detailed accounting information and help. It's something he's good at, one of the few things he has confidence in about himself. But now, to be called not to the minor outer offices, but to the main room...

"Good morning, Klink."

"Good morning, Colonel Burkhalter."

"Please, sit down. I want to talk with you about your future."

Klink wants to sit but finds himself too nervous to bend his legs to do so.

Burkhalter notices. "Drink?" The Colonel comes to a small table nearby and pours himself a rather large glass of what appears to be brandy, Klink can't help but notice. Klink merely nods. "You are nervous, Colonel. There is no need to be."

Klink nods again and accepts the offered glass. He doesn't know why he nodded; holding a glass only shows that his hands are shaking. "No, sir—no," he says, stuttering.

Burkhalter smiles at him again. "Please, Colonel. Sit."

Burkhalter puts himself back behind his big desk. Klink finally sinks stiffly into the chair opposite. He tries to smile, but he's sure it comes across as a grimace.

"You are probably wondering why I have called you here today," Burkhalter begins.

At this, Klink sighs inwardly. _Of course_ he's wondering; Burkhalter is playing with him. This is a bad sign. "I'm sure you have your reasons... sir."

"I do!" Burkhalter smiles again, then takes a gulp of his brandy. Klink fleetingly remembers he's also holding a glass but doesn't dare raise it to his lips. Burkhalter seems to settle in. "Klink, how happy are you at the accounting office?"

Klink pauses before answering. He's not sure where this is going. "Happy, sir?"

"Yes. Happy. How _happy_ are you there?"

Klink thinks about this. He needs to answer correctly. "I'm delighted to do what I can to help the Fatherland, Colonel," he says. He is pleased with himself; that was a good reply.

"Is there anything else you would rather be doing? Anything else you've always dreamed about but never had the opportunity to pursue?"

Klink frowns. He can't think of a good answer for this one, so he says nothing.

"Your family history is full of military men, is it not, Klink?" prompts Burkhalter.

_Good heavens. The Colonel has been looking into him._ "That's right, _Herr_ Colonel," Klink manages to say.

"I wonder what they would think of you spending the war behind an adding machine."

_Mein Gott! Not the Front! _"Colonel Burkhalter, have I done something to offend—"

"Klink, I have plans for you that will take you away from your dusty old office."

At this, Klink starts to babble. "I'm sure the Colonel will allow me to clean up my office. I do sometimes let it get out of hand when I'm busy, but if the Colonel is concerned about how I keep my desk, I can assure you that—"

"I am _not_ concerned, Klink." Burkhalter takes a calming breath. Klink stutters into silence. "I think you are misunderstanding the reason for your summons today. I am assigning you as Kommandant of a new _Luftstalag_ that has been constructed just outside of Hammelburg."

Klink, having stopped babbling mid-sentence, now has his mouth hanging open. "Kommandant, _Herr_ Colonel?"

"Your record is clean, and your knowledge of numbers will help you keep the camp's funds under control. I will be assigning other men to your command in due course."

"My... command." Klink is starting to like the sound of this.

"You have spent enough time in charge of numbers, Klink. It is time to be in charge of men. Do you think you can handle it?"

"Yes, _Herr _Colonel. Of course, _Herr_ Colonel. I won't disappoint you, _Herr _Colonel."

"I'm sure you won't."

----- ----- HH ----- -----

_That evening..._

"It is done. Camp 13's command structure is in place. I have done all I can."

"Your work here will never be forgotten, Colonel Burkhalter."

"I would rather it was."

----- ----- HH ----- -----

_Prisoners have been assigned to Camp 13..._

"Much as I hate to lose him leading the men in the air, I truly feel he is the best man for the job."

"Hogan, General Butler?"

"That's right. Colonel Robert Hogan. Head of the 504th. Damned fine man, even better leader. He'll do an amazing job, I'm sure."

"Does he know?"

"No. And he's not going to know."

"He may see it as an honor, a challenge."

"And he may see it as giving him the shaft. Pushing him out of a job that he worked his ass off for, and continues to work his ass off _in_. I could explain that this job is a reward, recognition of that hard work and dedication... but he wouldn't buy it, and it would be a lie, anyway."

"Don't you think that, sir?"

"Yes... and no. It's hard to put a man in mortal danger _every minute of every day_ and have it feel like a reward." Butler shakes his head. "I sure hope I'm not wrong about him." He pauses, says aloud, "I'm not." He's not sure whether he's trying to convince the lackey beside him, or himself. "Let's just hope he survives long enough to prove me right."

----- ----- HH ----- -----

_Eight weeks later..._

"Colonel Biedenbender, how has your study of the American Colonel been progressing?"

"He is an amazing man, _Herr_ General. I can understand why the _Luftwaffe_ is interested."

"We are _interested_ because it is clear that this Hogan has been the cause of a great deal of trouble for us."

"That is absolutely true, sir. Last week's encounter was as fascinating as it was frustrating. Hogan is an extraordinary pilot. But all men are flawed, and I am believe I am on track to finding the chink in his armor. I have welcomed the opportunity to study his tactics in greater detail, sir; I've never met such an enemy before."

"Our intelligence says he'll be flying over Hamburg tomorrow. Bring him down."

"I'll do my best, General."

"You'll do more than that, Biedenbender. You will bring him down. And you will make sure he survives the conflict. We have much to learn from him. You understand."

"_Jawohl, Herr_ General." Biedenbender smiles. "And may I congratulate you, General Burkhalter, on your promotion."

"_Danke_, Colonel. After tomorrow, I hope to say the same to you."

---- ---- HH ---- ----

_Three months later..._

"We are still waiting for Hogan to get to Camp 13. What is happening, General?"

"Colonel Hogan is going through the ordinary processing that prisoners undertake upon capture." He speaks over the correctly anticipated protest: "It has taken longer in Hogan's case because of his reputation—and his mouth. I wonder if you weren't just trying to get rid of this man by sending him here!"

"Absolutely not," Butler answers. "And I'm concerned that it has taken this long to get him into a prison camp—_any_ prison camp. What are you doing to him?"

"Nothing you need be concerned with. At the moment, he is at the Wetzlar transition camp, awaiting assignment to an _Offlag_. He is an officer—that is where he should go. It is taking me time to find a plausible reason for sending him to an enlisted man's camp. You didn't think about _that_, did you, when you chose Hogan for this mission?"

"We needed to send a leader—and Hogan is just that. I want him moved, as soon as possible. Get him into Camp 13."

"I will see what I can do. But I will not compromise my own position for him."

"I understand. Please, General Burkhalter... act quickly." _Be merciful. This is probably the hardest thing Hogan's gone through... ever. I'm sorry, Hogan. Some day, God willing, you'll understand._

----- ----- HH ----- -----

_One week later..._

"I am told that your meetings with the camp's interrogators did not yield any results," Burkhalter remarks, finally standing in arm's reach of the American who was unwittingly a pawn on both sides of the war.

Hogan remains quiet, staring at the wall behind the camp Kommandant's desk.

"I should have expected that much from you," Burkhalter says. "Your records from the _Durschgangslager der Luftwaffe_ and the Hohemark already indicated a very strong will. For that reason, Hogan, you will not be placed in the _Offlag_ that was originally planned for you. Instead, you will be sent to an enlisted man's camp down south near Hammelburg, where you will find yourself surrounded by men who are perhaps less… determined… than yourself, and where you will hopefully be deterred from any high-flying ideas about an escape back to the Allies, if you'll excuse the expression."

Hogan still says nothing. Burkhalter wonders if he has intervened too late. "We shall leave immediately," he tells the Captain in charge, who raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Colonel Hogan is a special prisoner. He deserves a special escort. Plus I have business down south that I must attend to, so this will be the perfect opportunity to get to know Hogan better."

Hogan's eyes are lifeless. But he moves when prompted, and soon they are on their way.

----- ----- HH ----- -----

_Four hours later..._

Klink's perpetually fawning face crowds into the car, looking at the quiet, world-weary prisoner. "You are Colonel Hogan?" he asks.

"Of course he is, Klink; I just _told_ you he was Hogan," Burkhalter says, annoyed. _I should never have agreed to this._

Klink nods quickly. "Yes, of course, General, this is Hogan," he amends.

Formalities exchanged and records handed over, Burkhalter leaves, certain he's picked the right Kommandant for the camp—if Hogan can recover enough to play the game being laid out for him that he knows nothing about.

----- ----- HH ----- -----

_Three months later..._

"Schultz!"

Stalag 13's Sergeant of the Guard appears a little too quickly from the other side of Klink's office door. "_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_!" he says, standing smartly at attention.

"Take Colonel Hogan to the cooler. He is to spend the next seven days there, thinking about his unwise attempt to escape from this escape-proof prison camp. No visitations except for the medic."

"_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_." Schultz looks at the dirty, tired American officer and politely guides him away.

Klink picks up the phone and gleefully calls his superior officer. "General Burkhalter, Hogan is back. Yes, I know he shouldn't have escaped in the first place.... No, sir, I won't let it happen again. But at least this way he knows any attempt to get out will be thwarted.... Dumb luck, yes, sir.... Yes, sir.... Oh, of course, General: heil, Hitler."

----- ----- HH ----- -----

_Ten days later..._

Hogan's anger is palpable. The men in Barracks Two watch him carefully, this mysterious officer who is so different from what they have come to expect of men of rank. His private talk on their new radio in their finally-completed tunnel with a superior officer in London apparently did not go well, and now Hogan is pacing in the common room, and fuming.

The Frenchman, Le Beau, thinks Hogan is angry because London seems to accept Hogan's capture too easily—that they aren't going to trade to get him out. He broaches the subject gently, suggests that the war will be over soon enough and they will all be able to go home—although he knows in his heart that is not true. But Hogan waves the egotistical idea away, bursting, "They want me to stay here for the duration—_on purpose_."

The men are surprised, having been given the impression that Hogan was a well-respected man back in London, and for a second they wonder if they've been wrong. Then Hogan continues, telling them that London considers it a bonus that he was shot down and sent here. That they want to take advantage of what could be a terrific situation. That they want him to lead of a sabotage and espionage unit—out of a prison camp. He shakes his head, says it's impossible, and they agree, though they say little. His outward anger dissipates, but everyone can see it simmering just below the surface.

London is thrilled he's in a prison camp, far from home, at the mercy of the enemy. It's got to hurt any man.

----- ----- HH ----- -----

_That same day..._

General Butler paces his office, angry with himself. He had been right not to tell Hogan about his plans before the Colonel was shot down. And the American's reaction today made him wonder if he shouldn't have kept it secret for a bit longer.

_But if he has no idea what you want, he wouldn't just make up the operation out of thin air... he'd try to escape. He'd _have_ to. It's who Hogan is. _

_Now... God, now I hope he is the kind of man I think he is. Come on, Hogan... play ball._

----- ----- HH ----- -----

_The American goes for a night on the town..._

Burkhalter is dragged to Stalag 13 because Klink says Hogan is coming over to the German way of thinking. The General is cross; all this work for a man who's going to cave? He sighs inwardly. Perhaps he _did_ intervene too late. Perhaps the interrogation methods used on Hogan _were_ too harsh. A shame.

But Klink insists that Hogan might be pliable, if given a night out, as he has requested. Burkhalter is disappointed, but he agrees. _Let us see what this man has become._

But he is taken by surprise. Hogan is witty, clever, charming. Out in a German uniform so as not to attract unwanted, unseemly behavior from the public, Hogan fits in like he has always belonged. And the woman Klink brought along—probably another social climber, thinks Burkhalter—is clearly attracted to the handsome young officer.

Burkhalter decides to relax and simply go with the flow of the night. He has a drink or three, and savors the witty banter of the American, a talent sadly lacking when he talks to Klink. He puts his arm around his companion, Elsa. "Hogan is having a good time!" he declares, as the Kommandant watches the American Colonel dancing with Gretchen, the beautiful blonde that he, Klink, was meant to be with this evening.

"Yes, with _my girl_!" Klink complains, frowning.

Burkhalter laughs and quotes Hogan from earlier in the evening: "Either you've got it or you haven't!"

Eventually, Klink can't wait any longer and cuts in on Hogan and Gretchen, on the pretense of allowing Hogan to sit with Burkhalter and get drunk so he will talk. Burkhalter sees through it but allows it, engaging Hogan in friendly conversation about how the American usually wants to be on the winning side of things. But he wants to know if the right man is sitting across from him, and he says, "We are interested in the Norden."

"That old thing?" Hogan smiles.

---- ---- HH ---- ----

_Ninety minutes later..._

Burkhalter watches carefully as Hogan plays with a piece of chalk in front of a blackboard. Eventually, Hogan draws and explains. Eventually they get into the nitty gritty. The Norden weighs just seven pounds, Hogan says. Burkhalter is surprised, and more disappointed. Hogan is giving away the keys to the store, and there was very little effort that the Germans had to make to achieve this. Maybe it's time to move Klink and turn this into an ordinary prison camp—with competent people at the helm. "This, gentlemen," Hogan announces as he continues to draw, "is the dust bag."

"Dust bag?" Burkhalter echoes. He hopes he sounds astonished. It's not hard.

"General!" exclaims the photographer who has accompanied them back to camp. "_This_ man is describing a _vacuum cleaner_, not a _bomb sight_!"

Burkhalter jumps out of his seat as Hogan declares that Norden make some of the finest vacuum cleaners in the world. "Congratulations, Klink," the General snaps, "you've done it again!" And he leaves the room, before anyone can see him smile.

---- ---- HH ---- ----

_The Germans capture the head of all daylight bombing for the Allies..._

Burkhalter takes the call. He is angry. "You are not to call me," he hisses.

The answer, in perfect German, is anything but German in reality. "We send congratulations about the capture of the American General, Barton."

"Thank you," Burkhalter answers curtly.

"It is fortunate that nothing so untoward has befallen one of our own decorated officers." Burkhalter says nothing. The voice continues: "Where is Barton being held?"

"He is being processed, as he should be," is all Burkhalter volunteers, still cross.

"The Americans were sloppy with such an important man. It would be most fortuitous for us to have one of our most important people—say, a General or a Field Marshall—have his picture taken with Barton. You know—the victor with the defeated."

Burkhalter raises an eyebrow. "In a properly triumphant setting. Like a prison camp," he says.

"That would be it _exactly_," the voice on the phone agrees.

"There is a camp nearby with a perfect no-escape record. That would illustrate just how difficult Barton's situation is."

"Precisely."

"And I know just who to send to meet him—Field Marshall von Heinke. He loves to have his photo taken."

"Excellent."

"The Americans have been foolish, very foolish," Burkhalter says. "Heil, Hitler."

The voice on the other end of the line sounds exasperated as it repeats, "Heil, Hitler."

---- ---- HH ---- ----

_The Allies plan a raid on a hydro-electric dam near Stalag 13..._

Burkhalter paces in the operations room at the dam. He had heard about unauthorized radio transmissions and he is concerned, as he will be here for the evening. He has stopped talking to his Allied contacts, content with occasionally observing Hogan's antics, and now completely certain that he did the right thing all that time ago, even though he could have been—and still could be—shot for it.

He calls Klink and warns him to be on the alert. As usual when he is on edge he cannot help but remark on Klink's idiocy—even though he has had to throw Klink off the scent every now and then when the Colonel unexpectedly actually got hold of the right ideas. Klink laughs and says he appreciates Burkhalter's humor.

But Burkhalter is angry. "This is not funny, Klink. Be alert to anything the _slightest bit unusual_!" he orders him.

---- ---- HH ---- ----

_The next day..._

_My punishment for betraying my country,_ Burkhalter thinks as he winces when the driver of his car can't avoid a pothole on the way to Stalag 13. _Or my reward?_ he wonders, amazed at being alive at all.

How did the Allies find that dam? Burkhalter asks himself the question, but deep inside he is sure he knows the answer. He was on the radio with that bubblehead Klink when the bombing started. He was sure he could spot the Hogan touch in the singing behind Klink's maudlin tribute. The idea that he had sent Klink flowers... that there was a "great big piece" of apple crumb cake waiting for him. Klink couldn't be that dumb all by himself... of that, Burkhalter is at least reasonably certain. But gullible? Yes, absolutely. Klink is gullible.

Burkhalter determines then and there to accept no more calls from London. Whatever happens from here on, happens. He has done his part, and now, he will go back to being a loyal German, and making sure that Stalag 13 doesn't get closed down by the Gestapo or other equal idiots before the war is over.

Or at least, not until Hogan is finished with it.

---- ---- HH ---- ----

*Note: credit to the writers of _Hogan's Heroes_ for quoting a few lines from "Top Hat, White Tie and Bomb Sight." This story also makes references to episodes "The General Swap" and "How's the Weather?"


End file.
